


Cornelius (On hold, read last chapter)

by astrolio



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angry Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Best Friends, Enemies, Enemies to Friends, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs-centric, Time Travelling Karl Jacobs, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrolio/pseuds/astrolio
Summary: "I know you're a time traveler.  You're trying to fix the past, you're trying to somehow save everyone from what is simply inevitable.  Karl, my victory is written in your own handwriting.  Surely an intelligent individual such as yourself was able to piece that together?"[ Or, Karl Jacobs fears the worsening effects of his time travelling while on a strange adventure into the future with Sapnap and Dream. ]
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Friends - Relationship, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 23
Kudos: 104





	1. Cornelius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl's library is visited by a certain suspicious someone.

Karl rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, his floppy brown hair ruffled and sticking up in strange places from the Travel. He sits on the floor of the secret room in his library, trying desperately to clear the brain fog so he can write down what he saw.

For a few seconds, the sounds of his own laboured breathing and pounding heart are the only things he hears. The fog lifts unsteadily, clearing his bleary vision and slowing the rushing river of anxiety that flows through him. At the first chance he gets, he grabs an empty book from the shelf and flips it open, flicking hurriedly through the pages until he finds a blank space in between chapters. He grabs his pen and flicks the cap off with his thumb, scribbling with shaky hands, _You are Karl Jacobs. The year is 2021._

"Just ... in case," he mutters, and places the book spine up and open on the floor. Then he grabs the edge of the table and pulls himself up, his arms and legs like jelly. He's always so disoriented to the point that things hardly feel real after each adventure. His vision swims as a wave of nausea washes over him, before he shakes his head impatiently and snatches up one of the empty journals.

The clock on the wall ticks the seconds away as he writes everything he saw, occasionally throwing his pen down to pace and mutter to himself. At one point, as he was having an extra hard time remembering a detail, he slams his fist down on the table in frustration and an old cup of water splashes his book, smearing the words and blotching across the pages.

"No, no no no ...." mumbles Karl frantically, patting the page with his sleeve, but it's no use. The page and all the other pages he already wrote on are ruined. "Please, come on, _PLEASE!_ "

The yell scratches against his throat on the way out, his voice cracking with stress. He realizes how thirsty he is and grabs the cup, gulping the water down, when he hears the bell on the front door of his library ringing as someone enters.

"Karl?" the person calls, their voice indistinguishable to him through his haze of confusion and distress. "Are you here?"

"Uh, yeah -- yeah, just a second!" he shouts, flipping through his book to make sure that most of the text is still legible at least. To his relief, the damage doesn't seem as bad now that he calmed down. There are smears here and there that block out a few words, but he should be able to piece things together when he comes back later.

Karl readjusts his hoodie, pulling at the turquoise hem of the torso, tugging at the neckline, when he pauses in confusion. Turquoise torso? He pulls at the hem again, looking down at himself, feeling strangely like something is out of place, but sure enough the torso _is_ turquoise.

So why does he feel tingles of apprehension flitting across his skin at the sight of the colour?

"Karl?" the person calls again, and this time he recognizes their voice, his heart skipping a beat. 

Dream.

Karl's vision splits for a second, and he staggers mid-walk, his eyesight flashing green and purple, fragmented like stained glass windows. _Cornelius?_ A voice in his head whispers, and he presses his palms flat to the sides of his head, his ears ringing as the sensation fades. Who?

"What the honk was that?" he asks himself shakily, his chest heaving. Then he remembers himself and leaves his secret room to the back of the library, opening the door to the main building where Dream waits for him.

Dream looks up from the shelf he's browsing as the door shuts behind Karl, his smile mask hiding his facial expression. His words, though simple, convey his annoyance and underlying curiosity flawlessly, never failing to bring chills down Karl's spine.

"What took you so long?"

Karl fidgets with the drawstrings on his hoodie. "I was ... working. Why'd you come in here? Do you need something?"

Dream picks up a book with his hand, his fingertips tracing along the cover as he flips it open, humming in his throat before answering. "I heard a shout, and I was worried for you, Karl," he says innocently, and Karl swallows, his eyes darting away from that creepy, empty smile.

"Right." Karl moves across the room and pretends to be interested in the book Dream holds, changing the topic clumsily. "Are you looking for something specific?"

"Mmmm? No, just ...," and here he tips his head to the side, his dirty blond hair falling through the gap between his mask and his face, "thinking."

"Right," repeats Karl, his voice trembling in spite of himself. "Right."

Dream seems to peer closer at him, and their eyes meet for a split second through the mask. "You look strange. Are you sure you're alright?"

Green eyes. Green, green, green. Karl's eyes close for a second as strange images flash across his mind's eye: a hooded figure, lurking at the edge of a small, grimy village, that white smile mask flashing in the dark ....

"Cornelius?" he mutters, and the name is rewarded with a shaky inhale from Dream, pulling Karl back to the present, his eyes fluttering open again.

"What-- What did you say?" he demands, stepping closer to Karl, who takes a nervous step backward, his outstretched hands meeting the front desk behind him as he bumps into it. 

"Nothing? Did I say something? I don't think I said anything, actually?" he stammers, voice higher than usual, but Dream steps closer still, towering over Karl, his body casting a strange shadow on the wall behind them. 

Then he stops, tilting his head again. He barks out a laugh, and Karl jumps, then laughs nervously along with him. "Of course. Of course. My apologies Karl. It was nice talking to you. I'll see you, uh ... later."

Karl watches as Dream leaves the library, freezing in place again when he glances over his shoulder at the door, but he only lifts his hand in a wave. Karl waves back, a little too enthusiastically, and lets out a huge sigh of relief as soon as the door slams shut and Dream is out of sight. 

That guy is so fucking weird, he thinks to himself, pressing a hand to his heart.

He turns around again, then stops in his tracks. Dream's shadow still lingers on the wall, but it's slightly distorted, and he recognizes it with shock to be the shape of the person in the cloak he'd seen in his imagination. As he stares, it blinks out of existence.

Or could it be that it wasn't just his imagination? The images felt like when you recall a memory and the parts of the day that stood out to you the most flash back in your head. Could it have been real? 

Karl returns to the secret room, but instead of returning to the book still open on the table, he pulls one of the older ones off the shelf. Dusts it off with his sleeve. 

Of course, it was one of the stories he's already visited and recorded. Thank god, too, because he sure as hell isn't about to go on two back to back Travels. His body would probably disintegrate before he got to the other side of time.

At that thought, he looks down to his hands, his knuckles as pale as the pages of the book he grips. What would he do if ...?

He flips the book open, trying to forget the thought, and finds the beginning, skimming through the pages. Cornelius was one of the people there, but what does that have to do with Dream? And why did Dream get so upset and then he just ... left?

It doesn't make any sense, but Karl keeps reading anyway, hoping for an answer, or an appearance description, _anything_ that would answer the questions burning in his mind. When he finally finds it, his eyes widen in shock and he slams the book shut instantly, feeling guilty and a strange feeling that someone, somehow, is watching.

The description of Cornelius sounds exactly like present day Dream, but how? Karl tries to reach into his memory, wondering if maybe something strange stood out to him about this Cornelius character when he hears a knock.

"Karl, Karl, Karl."

"Dream?" he turns around, his heartbeat roaring in his ears, hiding the book behind his back as he turns to face the smile mask. "How did you ...."

"I'm not stupid, Karl," says Dream simply, then does something Karl never expected in a million years. He reaches up behind his head and there's a faint click sound as he pulls off the mask.

Revealing his face.

"Why?" Karl swallows, and Dream tilts his head, a sinister smirk spreading across his face. His eyes flash as he takes a step toward the time traveler.

"Because you're not making it out of here alive, Karl. You know too much!"

Karl closes his eyes for a second, mustering up all the courage he has left, and meets Dream's eyes, barely suppressing a shudder. "I know you're Cornelius. I know that _somehow_ you're still alive."

Dream pulls his axe out of his sheathe across his back, his gloved hand caressing the sharp of the blade as he flips it in his hand and grabs the handle with the other, his smile widening. "I'm eternal, Karl Jacobs. But I'm also not the only one with secrets!"

"What uh ... what do you mean?" he asks, as if he doesn't know, and Dream chuckles.

"I know you're a time traveler. You're trying to fix the past, you're trying to somehow save everyone from what is simply inevitable. Karl, my victory is written in your own handwriting. Surely an intelligent individual such as yourself was able to piece that together?"

Karl runs his hand through his hair, his fear held at bay temporarily as frustration washes over him. "I've tried _everything._ I don't know how to save them. Why would I be given this power if I can't even save my own friends?" he whispers, and Dream pouts, laughing again.

"You won't have to worry about that anymore," he replies, his voice laced with false sympathy. "I bet it's been real hard for you, Karl, to have to keep going back to the future and seeing, over and over and over all of your friends die to my hand, isn't it?"

Karl opens his mouth to respond, when a new voice joins the conversation.

"Dream? Karl?"

Sapnap steps into the room, taking everything in slowly, his eyes dragging around the room before they land on the glowing netherite axe pointed at Karl's trembling body.

"What the hell's going on?"


	2. Keeping Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap confronts Karl and Dream, desperate to learn the full story of why his friends have been lying to him. Secrets start to unravel one by one.

_Sapnap steps into the room, taking everything in slowly, his eyes dragging around the room before they land on the glowing netherite axe pointed at Karl's trembling body._

_"What the hell's going on?"_

Karl's eyes dart to the exit behind Sapnap, before he flicks them up to his friend's face and silently urges him to leave. Their gazes clash for a second, Karl's face pale and Sapnap's dark with anger and shock. Karl knows some of those emotions are directed at him as well, and in his swirling stomach he feels a pang of guilt.

"Pandas?" Dream's voice seems to shake for a second, the name falling from his tongue in pure impulse, but he clears his throat and tightens his grip on the axe. "This isn't what it looks like."

Sapnap laughs humourlessly, and Karl and Dream flinch in unison at the raw betrayal in his words. "Are you sure, Dream? Can you _really_ say that with a straight fucking face? I want to know what the hell is going on right goddamn now."

Dream's eyes cloud with anger. "You have no right to talk to me like that-- I'm your best friend, Sapnap, you know m--"

"That's the problem! That's the problem!" Sapnap shouts, cutting him off and stepping forward, shoving Karl aside so he stands in front of the blade instead. "You're supposed to be my best friend, _both_ of you are, and yet here I am, standing in a secret room in Karl's library, having walked in on some sort of death match!"

Karl scoots backwards on the floor, his shoulders bumping against the shelf. "Sapnap, we need to get the hell out of here," he says in a low voice, and they both turn to look at him, Sapnap's eyes still blazing with anger and Dream's face unreadable. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk for a split second, but when Karl blinks it's gone.

"Don't go _anywhere_ , Karl," Sapnap growls, and Karl meets his eyes again, pleading with him silently. Dream sheathes his axe, folding his arms and leaning against the wall, assuming a bored expression that was difficult for Karl to believe in after the burst of emotion he'd just witnessed.

"We can talk about this, Sapnap," he says smoothly, and his best friend turns back toward him, taking in the return of his empty look. Sapnap clenches his fist at his side and Karl gulps.

"Fine. We'll talk about it," he snaps, "and we're gonna start with you -- _both_ of you -- explaining what is going on."

Dream opens his mouth, then closes it again, seemingly at a genuine loss for words. Karl coughs lightly into his hand and Sapnap turns back to him. 

"Well?"

"I ...," his eyes flick to Dream's face, the murderous glint in the pretty green eyes sending chills down Karl's spine. Where the hell would he even start? He hardly even knew what was going on; his brain felt like mush. "I can't tell you."

Sapnap stares at him for a second, and Dream muffles a snicker by pressing his face into his shoulder. Sapnap's eyes narrow infinitesimally but he ignores it, taking notice of the few personalized books on the shelves across the room, specifically the one Karl spilled his water on.

"I'll just find out myself, then," he says, grabbing the journal and flipping to the first page.

Karl's heart pounds and his palms feel sweaty as he and Dream sit in silence, waiting for Sapnap to finish reading. As he fiddles with his thumbs, he runs over the day's events in his head. Dream was somehow Cornelius. _I am eternal._

What does that _mean_? Karl pulls at his hair, his movements fueled by anger and frustration, Dream watching him silently. Who _are_ you? 

"You're ... a time traveler?"

Karl looks up, his hands slowly falling back to his sides, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised. His lips part slightly, but he doesn't say anything, anxiety clogging his throat.

Dream scoffs, flicking a fluff off his shirt. "Yes, he is."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sapnap's voice softens, the feeling of betrayal still leaking through his words. "Is that why you're always here, working? Karl, how often do you time travel? How do you even do it? Why do you even d--?"

Karl cuts him off, his heart lurching at the last question. Dream quirks an eyebrow behind Sapnap's back, and their eyes meet for a second. He mouths, "Go on. Tell him. You won't," and Karl gulps.

"I couldn't tell you," he begins explaining, his voice shaky and tight. "I couldn't tell anyone. It was too dangerous. I didn't -- I didn't realize the ... consequences. S-side effects."

His vision flickers for a second, ears ringing, and he presses the heels of his hands to his forehead, biting his lip but still continuing. "When I time travel, things don't like, pause or anything. Life still continues in the present. I didn't realize that, at first. By the time I did, I knew I had to keep up with the excuse that I was working on building the library. It's not like it wasn't true. Every time I come back, I ... I write a journal entry of what happened. Everything I see on my journeys, you can find in these books. 

"At first, I didn't travel a lot. I was terrified that I'd get stuck somewhere, some ... sometime, I guess. Time traveling ... it's hard. It's weird. It hurts in a way that's hard to understand, like your body is stretching and your brain is being flooded with words you've never even heard before. It's hard to, um, explain."

Sapnap scratches his hair, shaking his head. His mouth is set in a line, furrowed eyebrows pressed over confused eyes. "I don't get it--how is time travel even possible?"

"I'm getting there," Karl tells him, straightening his back. "Well, I mean, I haven't been able to figure that out yet. It just happens. One moment I'm just minding my own business and the next there's a portal next to me, and it feels like ... like I _have_ to go in there. It's a pull in my gut. It's completely irresistible."

His eyebrows draw together as he recalls the feeling. It was painful, but somehow addictive. Especially when you had a goal. A goal that felt impossible to reach, he thinks, flicking his eyes to Dream, who listens with equal interest to Sapnap. 

"So ... why? Why do you do it? What does this all have to do with Dream?"

Karl looks up toward the exit, his palms getting sweaty again. He rubs them against his pants, hands shaking slightly. "Cornelius. Why don't you explain this bit?"

Dream's face immediately goes from calm to enraged. His eyes burn with emerald fire as he crosses the room so quickly Sapnap can hardly react, grabbing the collar of Karl's hoodie and slamming him against the wall, pulling him up to eye level. "Don't fucking call me that," he hisses, and Karl grabs his wrist, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. He makes a choking sound as the fabric presses into his throat.

"What the hell, Dream?!" Sapnap yells, punching him square in the jaw. Dream releases his grip on Karl more out of surprise than pain, staggering backward and staring at his friend. "I don't give a shit what you do or don't want to be called, I'm hearing the full fucking story!"

Dream gives Karl a dirty look, and Karl, though his heart pounds and bile is rising in his throat, feels a thrill of triumph. That is, until Sapnap turns his angry glare on Karl.

"That goes for you too. Now, continue explaining."

Karl opens his mouth, but suddenly his eyelids flutter and he feels that familiar pull, his eyesight flashing, ears ringing, heart pounding in his head as the portal opens in front of them. Karl grabs his own wrist, prompted by the flash of pain that runs through it. He watches it flicker from its normal appearance to a neon pink swirl, eyes huge in his horror.

"Karl? Karl, what's going on?" Sapnap's voice is high with his fear, and even Dream looks horrified. "Is this the portal?"

"Yeah, what do you think?" Karl snaps, his patience running thin after all he'd been through that day. "We have to go, right fucking now."

Karl didn't often raise his voice, so when he does now Sapnap and Dream both fall silent. "Grab my hands," he orders, and together they step toward the portal.

"Are you ready?"

The two glance at each other, the hostility temporarily forgotten at the prospect of the terrifying adventure. Karl groans and rolls his eyes at the hesitation and drags them in without waiting for their answer. The last thing they all hear is their screams mingling, somehow echoing through the dark vault as their hands are pulled apart and they lose each other completely.


	3. The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream, Sapnap and Karl land in an unknown time and try to figure out what they're supposed to be doing there.

_The last thing they all hear is their screams mingling, somehow echoing through the dark vault as their hands are pulled apart and they lose each other completely._

Voices squeeze into Karl's head, so numerous and so loud that he can't make out individual words. His hands are icy cold as the black fills the space where his friend and his enemy had been gripping them. "Where are you?" he screams, but he can barely even hear his own shout. "Dream? SAPNAP!"

The voices get louder and louder, fear swirling in Karl's gut and pain ringing in his ears. _It's never like this,_ his panicked thoughts yell at him, _what did you fuck up?_

Just when he thinks he can't take it any longer, he crashes into the ground at last, rolling in patchy grass until he bumps into a tree and falls still. His head pounds and he lies there for a few seconds, panting heavily. His nerves jumble with the pain that sears through his body, nausea heavy in the pit of his stomach and he feels on the verge of throwing up.

"Karl? Karl, can you hear me?" Sapnap's voice sounds miles away but it rouses Karl somewhat, and he sits up slowly, his hands flapping through the air to find Sapnap. Their fingers brush and lock together, finally solidifying Karl, who opens his eyes gingerly.

"Thank god," Sapnap breathes, letting his hand go. "Are you okay? We lost you back there, Karl."

"We?" Karl coughs, his voice thin, and Sapnap tilts his head to the side, eyes darting in the same direction. Karl looks, and sees Dream standing on a boulder amidst the field, his hand shielding his face from the sun as he peers around them and takes in their surroundings. He's out of earshot and isn't even looking at them, but tingles of apprehension flutter in Karl's chest anyway. Somehow he'd forgotten that Dream was the reason they were even there.

"Your ears are bleeding," Sapnap realizes, and promptly begins to untie his white head bandana. Karl blearily lifts his finger to his ear and feels the thick liquid come off on his hand. It's a dark red, and Karl forgets all about Dream in his shock.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes, eyes wide. "This has ... _never_ happened before."

"Really?" his friend sounds worried, and Karl winces, wondering if he shouldn't have shared that. Sapnap orders him to lean forward, and he does, letting his friend wrap the bandana around his head. He fumbles the knot a few times, his hands shaking. Karl laughs quietly and pushes his hand away gently, doing it himself and pulling it over his ears. It might make it harder to hear, but with the headache he has it comes as a welcome hindrance.

"Yeah ... what was it like for you? Maybe the portal didn't like non time travelers going through it," he suggests, figuring it's too late to backpedal and pretend the blood is a normal thing. Sapnap sits back on his heels and shrugs, running a hand through his hair.

"It was really quiet, and freezing cold. It was like I stopped existing for a while," he describes, shivering slightly, and Karl furrows his eyebrows. 

"That's what it was like the first time I Traveled too," he confides, and Sapnap perks up in curiosity, perhaps anticipating a story, but Karl is too deep in thought to notice. "Maybe it gets worse over time?"

He's mostly talking to himself, but Sapnap cuts through his train of thought. "What do you mean? Was it not like that for you?"

Karl shakes his head. "No, it was like ... it was so loud. There were voices just everywhere, so bad that I couldn't even hear myself screaming. I guess that's why my voice is so hoarse."

"And it's normally silent ...." Sapnap exhales slowly, his shoulders rising and falling in a bewildered shrug. "I don't know. All I know is that it was _terrifying._ When you let go, I was so scared that I wouldn't find you again, or that me and Dream would just be stuck in that abyss." He pauses, a faraway look in his eyes, and he shudders. "You don't realize how much you take things just existing for granted until ... nothing exists."

Karl nods, and Sapnap scoots closer to him, leaning up against the tree so their shoulders are touching. "I'm just glad you're okay," they say in unison, then burst out laughing.

"What are you two talking about?" Dream's voice comes from above, almost sounding bitter. His mask is still on, but there's a long, thin crack running down the middle that Karl is almost certain wasn't there before. Sapnap and him exchange a glance.

"We were just discussing what happened. Did you figure out where we are yet?" asks Sapnap, changing the subject smoothly, and Dream huffs. 

"I think we're in the earlier Dream SMP," he says, sitting across them in the shade of the forest neatly. "It feels familiar. Nostalgic."

Sapnap looks down at his hands, falling silent. Dream is staring at him, his posture expectant, and Karl clears his throat awkwardly.

"I wonder why the portal brought us here," he asks no one in particular. Sapnap and Dream still refuse to speak, so he sighs and gets up unsteadily, brushing off his pants.

"When I say that, it means it's time to go and figure it out," Karl reiterates, sarcasm dripping from each word, and they get up reluctantly. "Do you think L'Manberg is established yet?"

Dream nods. Karl sighs under his breath again and begins leading the way through the forest, not wanting to have to walk in the hot summer sunlight. _Dream is right_ , he thinks as they traipse through overgrown grass and whack branches out of the way, _this does feel familiar._

At last they reach the end of the tree line and are gazing out over the lake where the community house stands. Karl feels a pang at the sight of its old structure looking so young again. It looks bare without the renovations that they're used to, yet something feels off about the building besides that. Sapnap's face holds conflicting emotions, while Dream's smile mask looks empty as ever as they take in the sight together.

"Well," Dream says finally, his voice tight, "here we are."

"Should we ... go in?" inquires Sapnap, hesitant. Karl quickly shakes his head, backing further into the shade of the trees.

"It would be bad if people saw us," he explains. "General time travel rule. You see it in movies all the time." They watch together as someone leaves the community house, walking quickly down the path that leads to the prime path. The figure looks familiar, and Sapnap exclaims in excitement.

"Look, Karl! It's you!" Sure enough, his past self is the one walking by, a spring in his step that makes his long brown hair bounce and shine in the sun. If they sit in complete silence, they can almost make out his out-of-tune humming, which present day Karl cringes at. Sapnap grins.

"Let's follow him," Dream says, clearly uninterested in the community house, then takes off through the trees before anyone can disagree. Karl shrugs when Sapnap turns to look at him for confirmation, and his friend chases after Dream. The time traveler himself waits for a few more minutes, trying to see if he can spot anyone else in the building. The water bubbles quietly metres below him, sparkling in the sunlight. The warm breeze makes the grass rustle.

Once Karl concludes the community house is empty, he slips down the hill to the shore of the lake, looking around carefully before sprinting across the bridge and into the house. "I just need to see something," he mutters, shuffling through the chests as quick as possible.

For some reason, they're all empty, except for building resources. He peers closer; brick blocks, birch, oak, spruce planks, windows, vines, leaves, lanterns, slabs, trapdoors ....

Why would they have building materials? From the look of things, the house is finished, and it's long before they decide to do the renovations, if Dream is correct about what time they landed in. He supposes it _could_ be September, but the weather is too nice for that. Karl closes the chest gently, leaning on it as he looks around him, taking in the house in more detail. Something _is_ a little off, he realizes. There are burn marks on some of the wood, a few crafting tables are missing out of the floor, and the stairs are completely gone, leaving nothing but a pole leading to a hole in the roof. "What the hell?" he mumbles. 

"Karl?" 

He whirls around, jumping at the sound of the voice. "Puffy? Hi!" 

Was Puffy even around before the community house renovations? The woman grins at him, and he realizes she's holding more building materials. 

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd left to go talk to Sam," she tilts her head to the side, that curious smile fixed on her face. Karl scrunches up his nose. "And what in the world are you wearing on your head? Is that ... Sapnap's bandana?"

"Um, yeah, long story. And, yeah I was ... but I forgot something," his eyes trail after her as she crosses the room, then stops in front of him, raising her eyebrows expectantly at him then the chest he's standing on. "Oh, sorry," he breathes, moving aside, and she starts putting the supplies in.

"What are you doing, by the way?" he asks, holding his breath when she glances up at him and laughs, confused. Her voice sounds on the brink of annoyance.

"I'm getting supplies?" she replies, brushing past him. He turns with her movements so he's always facing her. "To rebuild the community house. Which you were helping me with, before you said you wanted to talk to Sam, _remember_?"

The emphasis on the last word snaps Karl back to what he's supposed to be doing: figuring out what time he's in and what he's doing there. He also needs to catch up with Dream and Sapnap again. It's bad enough that Puffy saw him -- he silently curses, hoping he didn't mess something up and that's why things are being weird.

"Right! I'm sorry," he apologizes, scratching his neck. "I'll just ... go do that now. Bye! Have ... fun!"

Puffy straightens up again and watches him leave with a baffled look in her eyes, and his cheeks feel red with embarrassment. That didn't go well.

The door closes behind him, and as he darts through the trees he tries to figure out why Puffy, of all people, would be rebuilding the community house. The only explanation is that they've landed in the future-- Karl pauses for a second, leaning his shoulder against a tree and catching his breath, mind racing. Meaning something happened to the community house. It was strange; Karl had only ever Traveled to the future a few times, and it was always to the same time. He shudders at the mental image that paints, continuing his run.

Finally as he's nearing Hut's Pizza and Target, he spots Sapnap and Dream again. They're sitting in the shade, probably waiting for him. Sapnap looks like a total sweaty grouch, but when he sees Karl jogging toward them, he brightens up and nudges Dream's arm. 

"Guys! I know where I'm going!" Karl calls, waving his arm. "Well, I mean like ... I know where future me is going."

"This is the future?" Dream interrupts, and Karl shrugs. "So I was wrong ... that's ... sorry, Karl, continue."

"Thanks," he says sarcastically. "Okay, so, I went into the community house to do some sleuthing and I _sorta_ bumped into Captain Puffy? She--"

"Karl!" Sapnap reproaches. "You were just preaching about how we need to be careful to not meet people, then you waltz right into the community house and have an nice chat with _Puffy_?"

"I guess if Puffy's here, it couldn't be August," Dream muses, and Karl hisses out an irritated sigh.

"Everybody shut up! Let me explain the stupid story, Jesus." They both fall quiet, and Karl sits in the grass next to Sapnap, crossing his legs. "Alright. As I was saying, Puffy was there, and she told me she was rebuilding the community house. I don't know why, but she also said I was supposed to be on my way to talk to Sam?"

"Sam?" double checks Dream, something in his voice changing. Karl squints at him, nodding. "As in Awesamdude? That's ... concerning."

"Why's that?" Karl slowly asks, tensing up.

"Well ... we -- I guess you'll find out soon enough." Karl rolls his eyes but lets him speak. "So we have to follow you to Sam. Well, good thing your future self is in the Hut's Pizza right now. I have no idea what he's doing, but we followed him all the way here and we haven't seen him in like, ten minutes."

Karl shrugs. "There I am right now," he points, and they all straighten, turning to look. Future Karl closes the restaurant's door, locking it behind him, and crosses the parking lot to the prime path. "Come on, let's go."

They go around the back of the pizza place, climbing the hill to the top, where Tommy's house is. Future Karl goes straight past it, heading directly for Skeppy and Bad's house.

As they follow, Dream takes the lead, Sapnap and Karl falling in step a few feet behind him. They mostly walk in silence, but Sapnap seems to have something on his mind.

"Karl," he finally asks, "you said ... that there were side effects to time travel that you hadn't anticipated. You never really elaborated."

The question catches him off guard, and he contemplates his answer carefully. "Well, one of the symptoms is really bad memory loss. I'm not sure if it's irreversible, but every time I Travel it's like a fragment of my memory is chipped off and lost in that void. It's terrifying."

He thinks back to the library, when his brain kept labelling Dream as Cornelius. The way the room seemed to warp, his vision splitting and flashing as the timelines blurred dangerously close together. He describes this to Sapnap, but it was a symptom he couldn't remember experiencing before that particular instance. "Maybe it's what happens when your brain has made a connection," his friend suggests, and Karl purses his lips.

"It's weird. And painful," he says instead of answering directly. Secretly he's spooked just thinking about it, and Sapnap seems to pick up on this. He bumps their shoulders together lightly, smiling kindly.

"Whatever it is, you're not alone anymore," he reassures Karl. "I'm here now."

Karl smiles back, and they change the topic, talking about other things instead of time travel. It's nice, having this time alone with Sapnap. He's missed his friend.

"Guys," Dream calls back to them in a low voice, "I think we're here."

From the bushes where they're crouched, shadows of the falling evening closing in around them, they stare up at the giant building. Its corner towers glow orange with bubbling lava visible through iron bars, the black stone's sharp corners glinting in the light. Future Karl halts in front of the building that stands in front of the prison, built from the same materials but much smaller and less sinister. Just looking at both buildings brings chills down Karl's spine, and with a glance to either side at Sapnap and Dream, he gathers that they're fearful too.

"Sam?" Karl can just make out his future self's voice shouting hesitantly. "I'm ... here."

All four of them catch their breath, waiting for something unknown, until Sam's voice comes from seemingly nowhere. "You may proceed through the portal."

Portal? Karl scrunches his face up, bewildered, but his future self just takes a deep breath and enters the smaller building. 

"Should we ... follow?" For the first time, Dream looks to Karl for instructions. A thrill runs through him, but it's short lived at the prospect of having to go inside that building. Whatever it is, Dream seems to recognize it, which definitely doesn't help his nerves.

"Well ... we might as well check it out, right? Whether we can get in or not." Sapnap nods in agreement and on the count of three, they all sprint across the small stretch of grass to the opening of the building. Peering around the edge, Karl sees the swirling purple glow of a nether portal bouncing off the white quartz walls. The colour, usually so warm considering where it leads to, is much colder and more unwelcoming in the dark room. The three watch with wide, curious stares as future Karl steps into it, and vanishes in front of their eyes.


	4. Pandora's Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl continues searching for answers.

_The three watch with wide, curious stares as future Karl steps into it, and vanishes in front of their eyes._ And it is in that moment that a terrible, horrible idea pops into Karl's head. He knows it's stupid, and extremely risky, and he may even end up paying for it with his life, or the contents of the future, or his plan that he's been trying to refine for months on end -- working away, letting his brain deteriorate for each precious puzzle piece crowding into it after his time travels. It's dangerous, but it just might work. A deep breath is sucked sharply through his teeth.

"Wait here," he whispers, voice trembling slightly, and he dashes into the building before anyone can protest. He stands in the portal, Sapnap staring at him with eyes round as marbles. Karl prays that he won't try to follow him and screw up his plan, but when their gazes meet and Sapnap realizes exactly what his friend is doing with a protesting shout, lurching forward, the portal swallows him too.

Karl blinks, purple particles curling off his clothes. His future self is standing in front of him, his eyes cold with dread. "What the hell are you doing here?" he deadpans, and present Karl gulps.

"I have to do this. I'm sorry. You'll understand when you get back to our library," he says firmly, and before his summer 2021 self can protest, he smacks him in the face.

Which does virtually nothing except create an angry red mark and an even angrier opponent. "What the hell, me?!" he shouts, grabbing Karl's hoodie by the collar and slamming him up against the wall. Karl's knees buckle momentarily, and he grunts as he swings his leg up and knees the other in the stomach. 

The other Karl groans, holding his stomach, and Karl watches anxiously as he gets back up again and shakes his floppy hair out of his eyes. It's grown longer than present day Karl's, who, when he looks closely, can see lines of stress on the other's face. "I don't understand," the other mutters, and Karl exhales in annoyance before shrugging and barreling back into him. The two fall to the ground, present Karl on top of the other, narrowly missing the weak punches thrown at him. With a sympathetic scrunch of his face, he grabs the other and slams him back down again, wincing at the crack the back of his skull makes on the marble floor of the small room. 

Finally the other goes still, and Karl gets up again, brushing off his hoodie and massaging his reddened knuckles. Sam is speaking over some sort of comms system, which Karl ignores for the moment, pulling the limp body to the portal and leaning him up against the frame. 

A few seconds pass before the unconscious man is swallowed in the violet swirls of the portal and sent back through to the entrance room. He prays that Sapnap and Dream will take care of his future self, even if they have no idea that it's not him. Hopefully they don't make any moves on the prison and try to come up with a different plan. 

"I'm ready, Sam," Karl calls, his voice hesitant and strained when it bounces back through the room into his ears. There's a second of silence before a clicking sound and Sam speaks again. 

"Alright. You may proceed through the portal, Karl."

He does so, letting his body sag against the obsidian pillar as he catches his breath from the fight before a blaring pain shoots through his head. He lets out a yelp, gripping his hair and stumbling back out of the portal again, unsure if he made it to the other side because his vision has gone haywire. Static filters the colours and the lights, so bright, pushing through his skull. His ears are ringing so loud, _so loud_ , and he falls to his knees, a groan leaving his mouth that he can hardly hear. Blurry voices swim lazily in one ear and out the other, registering nowhere in his mind. All he can think is all he utters, though he isn't positive he even says anything aloud, too disoriented to tell: _Help me, someone--_

"Karl! Oh my god!" 

The voice somewhat pulls him back and he blinks hard, the noise fading slightly into the background. The lights still blind him, but then a figure looms over his shaking body, their shadow thankfully blocking it. Karl's heart is pounding, blood roaring in his ears, chills wracking his body with shivers. Terror and nausea swim awfully close in his gut until it bubbles up in his throat.

The contents of his stomach come out in one big heave, and he coughs, falling to his side. His throat is raw, but the stinging pain is nothing compared to the headache that absolutely hammers in his skull. Sam crouches next to him, peering at him with huge eyes. "What the hell happened to you, Karl?"

His tone is surprisingly gentle, considering he and Karl had hardly spoken before. The time traveler knows the answer to his question, of course he knows the answer--and it only spikes his anxiety. Even if it's a side effect of his time travel, it's never happened to that horrifying extent before, and he feels as though he might go mad if he can't find a way to fix it somehow. Instead of answering the question directly, not trusting his voice to be steady, Karl tilts his head back against a quartz pillar and groans again.

"Water?" is the word that leaves his mouth, and Sam nods vigorously, disappearing into a room somewhere. Karl takes the time alone to try and organize his thoughts, as jumbled and delirious as he feels. The room he's in is large, the ceiling high and ascending into shadow. Two crevices in either wall to his left and right indicate rooms, and the levers behind the large front desk he assumes open those doors. The building is just as foreboding on the inside as it is outwardly, all blackstone bricks and obsidian blocks, ghostly quartz and redstone lamps. 

Giving himself that short visual tour does nothing to ease his nerves.

Sam returns a moment later with a tall glass of clear water, which Karl downs thirstily. Sam watches him, eyebrows drawn together in his worry. "Maybe we should delay the prison visit," he suggests as Karl wipes his lips with his sleeve, bundled over his wrist. "You look really pale."

Prison visit? Now that it's said aloud, Karl realizes that's what the building had been reminding him of. Renewed curiosity pulses through him, rejuvenating him a bit, shooting new energy back into his veins as he wonders why he'd be visiting a prison, and who would be in the prison anyway. This must be why he's in the future-- to learn about the prisoner. He straightens his back, mind racing. Should he ask who it is?

He'd heard, of course, the rumours that Dream and Sam were designing a giant prison, but he was never interested enough to figure out where, or when, or if they had already finished. He hadn't been spending a lot of time outside of his library in recent days anyway, he thinks with a flash of guilt. No wonder Sapnap had been so betrayed to find out there was a secret room in the library. It must've felt like a punch in his gut, to realize two of his best friends were both lying to him, and for undisclosed amounts of time as well. Karl made a mental note to make it up to him somehow, and to come up with a formal apology. 

Sam clears his throat, and Karl realizes that his inner monologue has caused him to forget to answer, and he smiles weakly but sincerely. "No, I'm okay. Just a little disorientated, and I have a bit of a headache, but I already feel a lot better. Thanks for the water."

Sam nods, taking the empty glass from him. "Well, if you're sure you want to proceed, I need you to sign a few waivers for me. Just precautionary, of course. You know how it is."

Karl makes no comment, standing up carefully, shaking his head to clear the faint vertigo. He follows Sam to the desk, stopping in front of the book on the lectern and watching him cross around to stand in front of him. "I'm going to ask you to read the waiver aloud, just so I know that you've read everything and agree to everything, then you're going to sign it for me. Okay?"

He nods silently, nerves blocking his throat. This feels dangerous, and wrong -- the only event Karl has ever experienced coming directly from the future was the reason he was given his ability to time travel in the first place. What if this changes everything? What if what he learns today sets everything wrong, or puts him directly back on square one? He could be making a huge mistake, and the sense of foreboding that tickles the back of his mind seems to be convincing him of this fact. 

Maybe he shouldn't have gone in the prison.

Standing, staring at this waiver, the words _in case of injury or death_ seem to jump out at him. It's not too late to back out now. And he almost does, mouth open and ready to make an excuse, but something stops him. A voice in the back of his mind, maybe, telling him he has to do this. The image of Sapnap's smile, the sound of his gentle giggles when Karl did something stupid, maybe, or the way he reassured Karl he was there for him. Maybe it's Dream's cold stare quickly catching on a fire of sour rage, the reminder that even someone with as much power as he did could feel threatened by someone like Karl. 

Or maybe it's Karl himself coming to the decision to stay. In a way, Time Travel has become a part of him, connecting the dots and writing the tales and meeting all kinds of new friends from different timelines only to have to let them go, even though in a way they're always with him. He can't leave now, because that would feel like giving up on that part of him, even if he goes back and continues to work on other time travel things -- he's always going to remember this. The portal never sends him somewhere unimportant.

Karl signs the waiver, and he finds that his hands are steady at last, his gaze even as he meets Sam's eyes, closing the book with his seal and sliding it across the counter. "I'm ready," he decides aloud, before Sam can say anything, and the warden nods once.

"Then please, proceed through the door to your right," he instructs, the shifting of pistons and blocks echoing somewhere nearby as the wall opens in one of the four indents Karl had taken note of before. He steps inside, and they begin the many precautions to the main cell.

*

Sapnap paces in front of Dream and unconscious Karl, twisting his hands together anxiously. Dream watches him from where he's leaning against a tree, mask off, his knuckles white from how hard he's gripping the edges, shoulders tense and jaw set. Evening is falling, deepening the creeping shadows where they're somewhat hidden from anyone who comes by. Stars spill over the darkening sky. Every once in a while a breeze rustles the bushes or an owl coos sorrowfully, and each time Sapnap jumps, his eyes darting back down to Karl before he resumes his pacing.

After several moments of strained silence, Dream sighs, restless, fingers drumming on the porcelain mask. "Can you _please_ stop pacing? You're stressing me out."

His friend -- actually, Dream isn't sure what Sapnap considers him anymore. The thought isn't pleasant, but painfully he amends it: Sapnap shoots him a dirty look but obeys anyway, sitting in the grass next to Karl. 

"Do you think he's going to wake up any time soon? Should we go somewhere ... safer?" His gaze flicks to the looming prison, a shiver passing through him that he tries to pass off as the fault of the cool night breeze. Dream notices it anyway. He always noticed, when it was Sapnap.

He just shrugs. "Should we go to his library? Do you know where it is?"

Sapnap's face lights up and he nods. Dream has to push down a smile; roughly he ties his mask back on and gets up, legs stiff from sitting so long. Now to figure out how to actually transport him there.

His companion seems to have the same thought, and together they look around, both unsure what they're looking for exactly. After a few seconds of frustration, Dream spots an old wagon, probably used to transfer building materials to and from Skeppy and Bad's house when they were still building it. He calls out to Sapnap, who has wandered some distance away. "I found something! It even has a cover."

Sapnap jogs over, and together they push the wagon out of the shrubs, knocking spiders and dirt out of it, smoothing out the blanket on top. Then they haul Karl up by the underarms and drag him over to it, dumping him in, pushing his dangling limbs in with him for a rather awkward position as the end result. Dream steps back, admiring their work as Sapnap tucks the blanket overtop. 

"Nice," they say in unison, then, "you're pulling first."

Awkwardly they stare at each other, and weirdly enough Dream feels a blush crawling up his cheeks, a small smile tugging at his lips. Sapnap's eyes glitter, unreadable. "Uh," he clears his throat, but Dream catches the glimmering corner of his smile. "I'll go first."

Dream nods, and they set off down the prime path to Karl's library, both praying that no one spots them and that Karl doesn't wake up and blow their cover. Dream also finds himself hoping Sapnap would be able to forgive him after what he may learn today.

*

"Alright, Karl." Many redstone contraptions and precautionary waivers later, Sam and Karl finally step into a room with a bed, several levers lined on the wall to the left, and an opening in the one directly in front. Lava pours down inside it, bubbling and hissing. Karl stands, staring, mesmerized by the flickering lights that spill into the room, shining on the walls and glinting off Sam's armour.

"Wow ...," he utters, without really meaning to say anything. Sam watches him silently, his gaze calculating, prickling on Karl's skin and pressuring him into clearing his throat and saying something else. "Uh, how much lava is there?"

Sam turns away. "Enough."

They hadn't exactly been having friendly small talk the entire way there, but Sam seemed especially cold and withdrawn now as they anticipated together the actual visit to the prisoner. Karl fought back the nerves that crawled up his spine in a shiver, though the room was almost swelteringly hot. Sam flicks a few levers and they wait. Sweat pools at the base of Karl's neck, and he tugs his hoodie away from his collarbones absently. No words break the silence after that point.

Finally the lava begins to clear, opening up the gap so that Karl can see the vault. 

Floating in the middle of the room, its roof extending into the high ceiling above that is lined with lava dispensers, is the cell. He can't really tell who's inside; their back is turned, their head low and staring at the floor, orange jumpsuit disconnecting them from any unique characteristics to help him identify who it is. Karl hadn't been expecting the rather mundane looking prison clothes, and he quirks an eyebrow at Sam, who just stares back at him.

"Please stand on that square," he orders. Karl does so, waiting expectantly. "It's a bridge that's going to bring you across. Once you get over there, I'll bring it back, then the lava will come back down again. I've already set up the barrier so that the prisoner can't make any moves toward you before the lava encloses you both again."

The time traveler nods probably a few more times than necessary, wringing his hands, and Sam finally gives him a faint but friendly smile to soothe his returning nerves. "You're going to be fine. Good luck."

With a lurch and a shudder, the bridge begins its travel across the pit of lava below. Heart in his throat, Karl resists the urge to look down or call out to Sam and back out. He knows he has to do this, and he knows he can. When the bridge bumps to a stop at the entrance to the cell, he steps off and takes a deep breath.

The bridge retracts, and Sam gives him a thumbs-up from the other side of the vault, flicking a lever to the side. Lava begins pouring down again, and Karl finally moves to face the prisoner, his gaze roaming around the small cell when the barrier drops, opening it up to him.

A small pool of water in the far right corner, and in the left corner a chest, lectern, and cauldron of water. Next to it is a framed clock that ticks persistently into the silence of the room, humming with the crackles of the lava. The prisoner is sitting leant against a wall, their head tilted back, and Karl's heart drops as they level their gaze with his slowly.

"Dream ...?" 

It's hard to recognize him under the dirt and scars, his tattered orange jumpsuit filling out his shape in a way that is unfamiliar compared to his usual cloak and heavy armour. His dirty blond hair has darkened and grown, its lengths matted to his head with sweat and grime. Bags like smeared ash darken the skin under his eyes, and his jawline is studded with heavy stubble and beaded with sweat. He's paler than usual, and besides that he looks hollow, his eyes that Karl is so used to seeing filled with malice or cold calculation now raw with heated emotion. Karl averts his gaze, skin prickling. 

"Karl," the prisoner's voice is hoarse, surprised, "I wasn't expecting you to visit me today."

"Why's that?" asks Karl immediately, curiosity cutting through his restraint. He glances back to future Dream, fighting a shudder. "Did Sam not tell you I was coming?"

Dream shrugs. The movement is lazy, uninterested, but Karl has a hard time believing he wouldn't be grateful for any human interaction he could get in this hell hole. "He did. Still, I was surprised. You aren't exactly ... my biggest fan."

Karl looks down. "Well, to be completely transparent, I'm not entirely sure why I'm here either." 

The other man makes a hmm-ing sound in his throat. "You're not from this timeline. To be fair, I should've guessed. _My_ Karl --" and here he chuckles dryly at his own strange joke, "has a lot more hatred in his eyes when he looks at me. He's also a lot less nervous than you."

"Nervous?" Karl titters, "I'm not nervous." But Dream just holds him in that unwavering stare, and he knows there's no point in beating around the bush. This isn't the same man who threatened to kill Karl in that library so many hours ago. He's changed. Whether for the better or the worse, confinement will likely do that to a person. Karl just wonders how much.

"Well, do you have any idea why I could be here?" 

Dream stands and pushes off the wall, tilting his head and examining Karl. He's so tall that it makes Karl take an unintentional step backwards, and Dream doesn't miss the movement; a smirk curls his lip.

"Let me give you a tour of my new home, Karl Jacobs," he says, and even though that's not the answer he's looking for, Karl accepts it. Even if he hadn't, he suspects Dream would've done the tour anyway. 

He lingers slightly behind the prisoner as he explains the different purposes for the rather odd furniture choices. "My chest holds my books." He offers one to Karl, who opens it, reads the title. 

"A Guide on How To Get Girls?" he asks dubiously, unable to hide his growing grin. Dream goes pink, the most emotion Karl has seen from him so far, and snatches it back, stuffing it in the chest. 

"That was for Tommy ...," the kid's name makes his face darken, though it's unclear with what feelings. "The first time he visited me, he told me I had to do homework for him for some deal. He never came back for it."

Unspoken words hang in the air. _He never came back for me._

There's definitely hurt in his voice. Karl can't be imagining it, but he wishes he was. He really wishes he was, because something about this whole thing is telling him that Dream deserves it, whatever it is he does in the future to land him here, and even though he knows this a pang shoots through his heart. There was a time when he and Dream were friends. They'd laugh together and tell each other funny stories about Sapnap or George or any of their other friends. It was difficult to watch Dream's slow descent into evil, and Karl clenches his fist, trying to fight off the thoughts of _what if?_ that always come with thinking about their past. The truth was, Karl did blame a part of himself for what happened to Dream -- maybe if he'd used his time traveling powers differently he could've found a way to save his friend. Instead of a desperate plan to somehow lessen the damage of what is now inevitable because of his hesitation, Dream could still be the person he used to be.

"The cauldron is for, like, washing myself and stuff. Sam refreshes it every night," he stares into the depths, seemingly lost in thought. "It can get pretty hot quickly, so I try to do it right when he leaves. It's never quite the cool temperature I hope and dream of, but it'll do."

Karl inclines his head in agreement. Dream continues. "The lectern is usually where I write the books, when I want my handwriting to be neater, but for my journals ... I just do it wherever." A sort of insane glint in his eyes catches Karl's attention. He swallows. 

He doesn't like how he can see himself in those eyes.

"That's pretty much it, though," he shrugs. Then his gaze slides past Karl's face to the wall behind him. "Nevermind! How did I forget my clock?"

Karl's laugh bubbles with nerves and he steps aside. "This is my clock. It's my favourite thing here -- sometimes I just spin it around for entertainment."

The clock reminds Karl of what he's supposed to be doing there, and it's not to be getting a tour of the maximum security cell in the prison. Dream seems to catch his change in mood and understanding flashes across his face.

"You still don't get what you're doing here?" Karl shakes his head, and Dream bites his lip. "I thought for sure the clock would do the trick. Y'know, _time_ travel, and all that."

Karl shrugs. "I guess --" he begins, then cuts himself off, eyes widening, snapping his finger as the pieces fall together. "That's it! Time travel! I have to bring you somewhere."

"Really?" Dream looks shocked, like even he hadn't been expecting that. Karl nods rapidly, spinning in place, trying to think his hardest about the portal opening. "Uh ... question ... why?"

"You have to make it right with Tommy. So he'll want to visit you," he explains impatiently. "I heard the pain in your voice when you spoke about him -- don't try to deny it -- and it all makes sense now. You have to somehow fix something in your past relationship. Something ... that'll make him feel like you actually do care about him. You do, don't you?" 

Dream drops his head, staring at the floor. "I do. I do. I wish --"

The portal appears the second the confession is uttered, all swirling teal and violet, littered with stars in its depths. Whispers escape through the opening, and Dream's head flies back up again, his eyes huge. 

"They're talking to me." His voice is hushed in his awe, and Karl feels a thrill of satisfaction along with the strong tug in his gut urging him to go through. Dream blinks, his hand outstretched toward it. 

"You feel the pull too?" 

The prisoner nods, and turns starstruck eyes on Karl. "Can we go through? I know what I have to do."

Karl smiles, nods, and grabs his hand. "Whenever you're ready," he tells Dream, and a heartbeat later they're falling through the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again readers! i wanted to make this part significantly longer, because ive been reading more ao3 recently and i noticed that i have like the shortest chapters on the planet LOL. i genuinely don't know why this is getting so many hits but i'm glad people enjoy it! -blue :)


	5. From Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy speaks to Dream in exile, and his opinion on the man is reevaluated.

Burning embers fly into the air, a thin veil of smoke from the fire Tommy sits in front of causing the dancing stars to blur together. The gleam of the moon filters through it and deepens the shadows of the rolling fields of grass beyond the camp, painting an image of cold tranquility. The forests stand dark and foreboding on either side, cool night air weaving through the branches, whispering to him as it tickles the back of his neck and sends chill fingers down his back.

Tommy stares into the pits of the crackling, dancing flames, his mind miles upon miles away. His hands are spread out in front of him, palms facing the warmth. Though the night is cold and dew settles over the grass, he is comfortable in the face of the blaze.

It feels wrong to be sitting in such pressing silence, he thinks, tearing his stare away from the fire and gazing out over the ocean instead. The breeze coming from it smells foreign, making him feel even further from home. Inadvertently his eyes trail over to the place where his beach party was supposed to have taken place earlier that day, and he feels a lump building up in his throat.

They were supposed to come. He was supposed to see his friends again, after weeks of lonely exile with no one but Dream to keep him company.

And some company that is, too, he thinks with a scoff. Every time he sees Dream, the man would make him put all his stuff in a hole and then he'd blow it up. Hours of hard work piling up, only for the results to constantly be destroyed by the man who had already taken so much from him.

He sighs heavily, kicking a stone aside. It skitters across the dirt, Tommy's eyes tracing after it, only for its path to be abruptly blocked off by a pair of glowing netherite boots stepping from the shadows. Tommy feels his heart drop and glances up to see Dream's smile mask looming over him, the shadows that dance across the surface making it even more sinister.

"Hello, Tommy," Dream says quietly, stooping and picking up the pebble between his pointer finger and thumb. The fingerless gloves on his hands make it look like his fingers are almost floating, and the man seems even more ghostly. Tommy watches as he stares at the rock, then shrugs slightly and tosses it into the fire.

"Hey, Dream," he responds finally, voice flat. Dream looks around him, then turns back to the boy.

"One moment." He disappears into the shadows, the overgrown grass flicking back into place and enclosing Tommy again. He listens to the faint rustling as the man moves around then at last comes back with a large log, which he sets down and sits on.

"Nice night, isn't it?" he says, his tone almost cheery, and Tommy swallows back a swear word.

"Yup. Just _splendid_ , innit."

Dream ignores the sarcasm, poking a stick into the fire and pulling it back out when it catches. Together they watch the flames dance along the bark, curling and snapping, before it finally fizzles out. Tommy finds himself almost holding his breath, nerves prickling through his body.

"I'm sorry no one came today, Tommy," Dream says suddenly, turning back to Tommy and tipping his head to the side infinitesimally. Tommy's eyes widen for a second before he quickly looks away, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah, well. It's whatever." He flicks a bug off his dirty, torn-up jeans, but he can't help himself; he sneaks another glance up at Dream. Though he can't see his face, there's a prickling feeling that tells him Dream's masked eyes are boring into the side of his head. Has Dream's hair gotten longer? He looks thinner than usual, too, doesn't he? 

"It still sucks, though. I know the feeling."

Tommy looks up at this, confused. "What--"

"Nevermind. Sorry," he mumbles, sounding confused for a second. "Uh, I mean, before I met Sapnap and George, it was just me. I meant that ...."

He fumbles for words, and Tommy scoffs inwardly, bitterness at the man's struggle to relate swallowing his gratitude for the sympathy. "Right. Well, sorry you felt that way, _Dream_."

Dream coughs awkwardly into his hand, but for a second Tommy thinks it sounds a bit like a poorly timed laugh, and his head shoots back up. He squints at the man, who only runs his fingers through his dirty blond hair and stamps out an ember next to his foot. "I missed you, Tommy."

"Riiight," he repeats. "Uh, why're you here?"

Dream stares off into the grass across the fire pit, his hands dropping back down to his lap. "Something somebody said got me thinking — Tommy, do you ever wish you could go back in time?"

"What kind of shithead question is that, Dream?" Tommy laughs, but it's not very convincing. Dream only watches him silently. There isn't any harm in answering, is there? Just two people hanging out by the fire pit at a campsite in the middle of nowhere, far, far away from anyone who knows them. It feels private, and almost safe, compared to their usual dynamic. He finds himself relaxing a little, falling into a more languish position, his shoulders dropping. "Yeah, yeah. I do."

A few seconds of silence pass, only broken by the crackling fire and faint buzzing of bugs. Rustles in the grass that sometimes sound almost like footsteps but that Tommy writes off as the breeze. Dream fidgets with his hands quietly.

"What would you ... change?" He finally asks next, voice low, and Tommy stares into the flames, his eyes unfocused, nose stinging. 

"I mean. I guess I'd rather not be exiled, would I?" he attempts a joke, but something about Dream's change in mood filters his usually snappish remarks. "I dunno, really. Sometimes I wish Wil wasn't dead, sometimes I wish I hadn't burnt down George's stupid house ...."

There are other things, too. He wishes sometimes that he could go back to evening on the bench with Tubbo. He wishes he'd followed Tubbo's instructions to behave and not let Dream rile him up. He wants his probation. The readiness at which Tommy had accepted his exile hits him now, startling him. Had he done all he could to prevent this? What happened to the boy who was ready to fight for everything he had left? What happened to Tubbo, his best friend, their unbreakable bond? They were supposed to be a duo, and they both threw it away. Tommy swallows hard. Maybe he should've --

Dream makes a sound in his throat, pulling Tommy out of his trance-like state. He shakes his head, his fluffy blond hair tickling his eyebrows. "How about you, Dreamie boy? You'd change some things?"

Dream stares off into the grass through the smoke rising from the flames, and his shoulders rise and fall in a heavy shrug. "Yeah. I would."

They fall back into silence. _What is he playing at?_ Tommy wonders half-heartedly, dragging a twig in the dirt, drawing circles and lines. _And why is he being so nice?_

"Tommy, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Tommy double takes, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

Dream fiddles with his mask, his posture lazy in the sudden weight and tension it seems to hold. He usually looks so authoritative, and the way he holds himself with dignity and defiance is often what prevents Tommy from even trying to protest when he blows up his stuff. What had changed?

Instead of elaborating, the man with the mask points up to the stars. "Hey, look, you can see the little dipper."

Tommy follows his gaze, eyes roaming the black sky until he found the constellation, glimmering high above them. More silence fills the space between the two, but this time it feels more natural, comforting, almost warm. Tommy finds himself thinking back to L'Manberg, and again about Tubbo. Maybe their friendship doesn't have to be destroyed forever. Maybe he can find a way to fix it again. _Dream's sorry_ , he thinks, and clenches his fist.

"For once, my night was improved when you came around, Dream," Tommy says softly, a smile spreading across his face, and Dream looks back down. Though the mask he wears covers his expression, Tommy has a feeling that he's grinning back, and in that moment the smiley face seems less sinister, less enemy.

"Thanks, Tommy. You're not so bad yourself." There's laughter in his voice, and it's contagious; Tommy chuckles, his posture relaxing, and he can see the tenseness in his mate's shoulders loosening as they laugh quietly together under the little dipper, warm in the face of the flames and with the company of each other.

Then a shout comes from somewhere off near the woods, shattering the tranquility, and Tommy jumps, skin prickling. Standing on the tree stump he'd been sat on, he peers around through the tall grass, searching for a sign of life. There's a purple and green light flashing faintly under the cover of the tree line. "What the hell is that?" he stammers, turning back to face Dream, only to find that he's vanished. "...Dream?"

There's no answer. Apprehension tingles in the pit of Tommy's stomach, rising goosebumps spreading up his arms. The fire spits pathetically in the pit, and as he watches it sputter out the breeze picks up, that empty loneliness seeping back into his bones. It weighs on him, and he sits abruptly back down, his legs tangled in front of him. "Dream?" he mumbles one last time, staring in the direction of the light, watching it twinkle out of existence.

He sits there for a few minutes, part of him wishing that Dream would come back. It was the first time he'd actually wanted to be in the company of the man, but he wondered if that was just his desperation from yearning to see his friends again. The laughter they shared felt like the first time he'd laughed in weeks, and it probably had been. Tommy rubs his arms, the chilly night air finally hitting him as the last embers die down. His outgrowing hair tickles his cheeks as he stands up, seeking out the path to his tent.

He picks his way through the grass, but before he enters the tent he looks back out over the plains and the land that surrounds him. Dream's strange questions had gotten him to do a lot of thinking that night, hadn't they? His wandering gaze lands on the house Ghostbur built, and he releases his grip on the zipper, starting down the winding path. He slips through the opening in the fence, jogging up to the front door and knocking twice.

"Ghostbur? Are you ... here?"

The ghost flies through the door, stopping just in time so he doesn't touch the boy. "Tommy! Hello!"

"Hey," he greets him, smiling slightly at his enthusiasm. "Uh, I was wondering if I could sleep here tonight? I've just been feeling ... kind of alone, lately."

His voice gets quiet at the end, but Ghostbur's grin only grows. "Yeah! Of course! Come in, Tommy." He floats aside and Tommy flashes another faint smile, pushing the door open and stepping inside the warm house.

"I missed you," he says as he settles into the bed Ghostbur has but doesn't use, pulling the covers up close to his chin. A shaky sigh leaves his mouth as he sinks into the soft mattress.

Ghostbur's face falls slightly at the tone of his voice and his eyes dart to the side. "You miss Wilbur. _Alive_ bur."

Tommy twists his finger around a hole in the comforter that Ghostbur knit himself and swallows the growing lump in his throat. He remembers the warmth in Wilbur's eyes as he looked down at Tommy when they were admiring L'Manberg, the glowing pride he felt as the older boy who he viewed as a brother planted his hand on his shoulder and cheered. He remembers the euphoria bursting in his chest during the first war, when they compromised. The shouting and the laughter as Wilbur yelled, "Suck it, green boy!"

He remembers the warmth fading over time, the crazed look in Wilbur's eyes as he paced around Pogtopia after their first exile, his hair sticking out in weird places from how hard he'd been pulling it. He thinks back to the fear he felt as Wilbur approached him, staring down at him and telling him he'd never be president. The chill that cut a gap in their friendship, making him feel a small spark of fear at even the sound of his voice.

"In some ways," Tommy concludes aloud, and Ghostbur meets his eyes again. "But I'm here with you, Ghostbur, right now, and that's all I need."

Ghostbur smiles. "Goodnight, Tommy," he says, and Tommy turns over to face the wall, a small grin spreading across his face too. _For once, my night was improved when you came around, Dream._

_Thanks, Tommy. You're not so bad yourself._

The grin widens and he presses his cheek into the comforter, squeezing his eyes shut, exhaling slowly through his nose.

"Goodnight, Ghostbur."

*

Karl's legs kick through the abyss that is the portal as he prepares for impact. Dream is next to him, and Karl watches as his netherite armour and cloak melt away again, replaced with the jumpsuit. His mask cracks in half and spirals into the blackness below them; Dream's hand reaches for it, a strange look on his face, and Karl's expression hardens. He grabs the outstretched hand and they meet eyes, conflicting emotions battling in Dream's, then their feet hit the floor of the cell.

Dream stumbles, hand wrenched from Karl's grasp. This time Karl lands perfectly on his feet, and a thrill of triumph shoots through him. He _finally_ didn't look like an idiot in front of Dream when doing the one thing that he was actually good at. He glances over, smirking slightly, only to realize Dream isn't even looking. 

Silence sits between them as Dream catches his breath and Karl readjusts his hoodie somewhat awkwardly, then speaks when Dream turns to look at him. "So. Did you ...?"

He's not sure what he's asking, but the prisoner nods anyway, gaze far away. "Yeah. I think I did." He drags his gaze back to meet Karl's eyes, and gives him a shy smile. "Thank you, Karl."

Something blocks up Karl's throat, so he just nods vigorously, blinking. "Yeah. Of course," he manages. It's -- strangely nice, the look they share, and it takes Karl back to the days before everything went to shit. It's nostalgic, and it comforts him.

He wonders, somewhere in the back of his head, when present day Dream will reach this point. Will he ever? Does he need to know what Karl saw today? Something in future Dream's eyes makes him think that maybe he should pretend that Sam didn't let him in to see the prisoner. Pretend that he never found out why they were supposed to be in the future.

"Well, I should probably get going. Won't want everyone back in the present to worry about where I am," he says, flashing a smile, and Dream nods. 

"See you later, Karl. Today was nice. Thank you."

Karl dips his head, then crosses the cell, standing in front of the lava. "Sam? I'm ready to go!" he shouts. Sam instructs him to get into the small pool of water in the corner, and he does, his eyes meeting Dream's one last time.

"See you soon," he whispers, mostly to himself. Then the prison cell vanishes.


	6. a/n

hello readers...............

i’ve decided that i’m going to put this fanfiction on hold. i don’t know for how long, or if it’ll get picked back up again at all, but i’ve kinda hit a dead end with it and i’m just not that proud of it. my apologies to anyone who was enjoying it, but i honestly started it entirely on a whim because i wanted to write something cool about karl’s time traveling and also the headcanon that dream is immortal, you know? but anyway, yeah, it’s put on hold for now.

you can read my other fanfictions on my profile!! i’m definitely going to be posting more, probably mostly oneshots instead of chaptered works. i’m working on a sort of time-line inaccurate but still early dream smp one that’ll be in similar format to “Things Unseeable” (again you can read that on my profile). but anyway, thank you for the support on this one! 

my twitter: @dwttunes. thanks for reading :)


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